


like children would

by sospecialstardust



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Crying, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Self-Doubt, moca is a dumbass with no self preservation instincts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 11:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sospecialstardust/pseuds/sospecialstardust
Summary: In a desperate attempt to convince herself of her own worth, Moca sustains a minor injury and a major blow to her cool-girl facade.





	like children would

**Author's Note:**

> i write again. incredible
> 
> this may be very scientifically incorrect, self-indulgent hurt/comfort fanfiction comes before “biology” or “science” for me
> 
> stan tomomoca. food gfs

Moca wasn’t ever the one to “want”.

That was always Ran’s, Himari’s, Tsugumi’s, Tomoe’s, even Lisa’s job. To chase the dreams they saw in their head, even to the ends of the earth if they had to. Moca was just the one to push them along, staying stagnant on her own journey, if you could even call what she did a “journey”.

Strictly speaking, Moca only tried to play the guitar because she was good at it. She stuck with the other members of Afterglow because she felt like she belonged there, moving at a simple, steady pace with the ones she knew inside and out. It was something easy, comforting.

However, she saw something change when the band started gaining traction. She saw her friends change right before her eyes, what with all the tension and yelling between them. And even with all that behind them, it still felt different to her. The pace started to quicken, like playing with the others had suddenly become more intense. For once in her life, Moca almost had to struggle to keep up.

Today, she finds herself alone on the roof after school, guitar in hand, despite any of her wishes to be at home, taking a nap. The others are nowhere to be found, having left the school hours ago. Moca thinks about them, the songs they play when they’re together, and feels something new: wanting.

She’ll catch up to them, no matter how much it takes.

As the sun sets over the horizon, Moca plays the same songs over and over until her fingers hurt. She’s good at picking up on the intricate melodies most of the time, but something isn’t right about this one. She knows it should be strong and forward, but she can’t reach the right sound.

“Damn it... one more time,” she sighs, looking at the sky as it darkens. She tries giving it her all this time, overdrive on and volume on high. Her hand glides over the strings...

_plink!_

White hot pain sears through Moca’s palm. She reels back in shock, amp still buzzing from her frustrated attempt at playing the solo. She tentatively shuffles over to turn it off before assessing the damage.

Looking down, it’s exactly as she expected. Her high E string hangs dejectedly from the body of the guitar, dripping a little blood from its tip.

“Ooh, that can’t be good...” she mumbles to herself, gingerly turning over her hand to look at the wound.

The first thing she notices is all the blood. It trickles down her palm and between her fingers. Moca feels a little woozy looking at it, forgoing pain for fear and nausea instead.

Hurriedly, she tries to pack up her guitar and run. Her hand stings, but she’s still shaken up, and the best she can do is press it to the hem of her skirt and hope it doesn’t stain the fabric.

When Moca reaches the front door of the school, she notices that it’s already started raining. Impressive, she thinks to herself. It’s not like she needs to walk home or anything.

Begrudgingly, she decides to walk home anyways. It’s not pouring quite yet, so she’ll probably be fine if she goes quickly.

Or so she thought.

About a block in, Moca halts, feeling dizzier with each passing second. Her hand is still sticky with blood, despite her best efforts to stanch the bleeding with her uniform skirt.

“Crap, this can’t be happening...” she whispers, swaying back and forth on the sidewalk. This isn’t how she pictured dying, bleeding out in the rain after cutting her hand on a guitar string. What would happen to the band if she dies? She’s afraid to think about it.

Fearfully, Moca stands still and tries to keep her balance as the neighborhood whirls around her. She can barely focus on anything outside of the blood dripping down her hand. Surely it’s stopped a little, right?

She can hear a voice calling calling her from somewhere in the distance, a voice with a very familiar tone. Straining to hear, she still can’t quite place her finger on it, but she hopes they show themselves soon.

“Moca?”

It couldn’t be Ran. She would’ve been on the roof earlier, if she were to stay at school after hours.

Imai-san?

No, she’s probably out doing a “one-on-one practice” with Minato-san, right?

“Moca?!”

She doesn’t know.

“Moca!”

Suddenly, a hand grips her shoulder, gently turning her around to face its owner. “Are you okay?”

“Ah! T-tomochin... I missed you~,” Moca laughs in relief, but her voice is weak and she has to fight the urge to collapse into Tomoe’s chest. “You’re like my guardian angel.”

“Moca, don’t joke right now! I’m seriously worried about you. I mean– I was helping Sayo-san with an archery club issue when I see you leave the building in a hurry, and– and I find you here now, swaying back and forth in the pouring rain? You idiot, you’re going to catch a cold!”

Moca bites back the unreasonable impulse to break down crying. “I... cut myself... on my guitar string while... I was practicing.”

She shakily lifts her injured hand to prove her statement. Immediately, Tomoe’s expression softens, from loving anger to motherly concern.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of blood... Here,” Tomoe remarks, hastily pulling a tissue from her bag and pressing it to the cut. “Come on, my house isn’t far from here.”

Moca nods, letting Tomoe pull her arm around her waist and prop her up for their awkward shuffle home. As they start moving, she leans her head against Tomoe’s shoulder, concentrating all her energy on not passing out.

A few slow, uncomfortable minutes later, Moca feels Tomoe gently pry her fingers from around her waist (she hadn’t noticed that she was holding on so tightly) and unlock the door. “Come on, we’re home.”

Moca stumbles in through the door, trying her best to tug off her shoes without dripping blood or rainwater on the carpet.

“Hey sis, hey Aoba-san!” Moca hears Ako’s voice from the couch. The purple-haired girl sports her usual large, innocent grin, waving at the two of them.

“Hey, Ako. Do we have any bandages?” Tomoe huffs, her usual cool demeanor tinged with anxiety.

“Yeah, they’re in the medicine cabinet. Did something happen?”

“Moca got hurt while she was practicing today. It’s not that bad, she’s just bleeding a little bit.”

Ako nods quietly, letting Tomoe lead the still-unsteady Moca to the bathroom. She hands her a towel to dry her hair with, before instructing her to sit down on the lid of the toilet so she can assess the severity of the wound.

“It doesn’t look too deep, it was mostly just the blood that was shocking. How do you feel?”

Moca swallows, her eyes watering a bit. “N-not bad.”

“That’s good.” Tomoe reaches for a bag of cotton balls and a bottle of antiseptic. “I was really scared for you out there, you know? You should’ve asked somebody for help instead of running off like that.”

“Tomochin, you worry about me too much...” She laughs feebly, but is quickly cut off by a pained hiss when the antiseptic hits her injured hand.

“You were hurt badly! I don’t know what you were planning on doing if I hadn’t arrived, but I couldn’t just let you pass out on the sidewalk. What were you doing, practicing up there by yourself, anyways? Our scheduled rehearsal isn’t for another few days.”

“I–“ Moca bites her lip as hard as she can, but her body betrays her. She can suddenly feel tears spilling down her face, unable to stop them even if she tried.

“Hey, hey...” Tomoe pulls the wrapping around Moca’s hand one last time, closing it gently. “What’s wrong?”

Moca gasps in between her sobs, trying to regulate her breathing. “I-it’s stupid.”

Tomoe holds Moca’s wounded hand delicately, reaching up with her other hand to touch her cheek. There’s no sense in being stern with her right now. “Hey, could you please tell me?”

“It– It’s just... Since the band started, I was always so good at playing the guitar, and I... and I felt like I belonged in the band with everybody, but–“ Moca angrily rubs away her tears with her free hand, leaving red marks on her cheeks. “But things have changed. We’re moving faster, as a band, as people... what’s the use of spending all my time trying to catch up?”

“Don’t say that!” Tomoe squeezes Moca’s hand, careful not to hurt her. “You’re an amazing guitarist, and you shouldn’t have to worry about catching up with us. You’re doing great as is!”

Moca’s eyes widen, unable to think of a response.

“And we’re still your friends! We care about you and would do anything to help you! You’re not a burden on us for needing to slow down. You know that, right?”

Moca gives a bleary-eyed grin. “Aw, you’re getting all sappy again...”

It sort of reminds them of when they were kids, the way they would trip and fall, scraping their limbs and crying with reckless abandon. They would always make clumsy attempts to comfort each other, with the cool feeling of a popsicle melting in its package against a cut knee, a quiet song hummed into the other’s ear to stop the bawling, and a bandaid placed over the wound and kissed lightly.

Without thinking, Tomoe grabs Moca by the wrist and kisses her palm. Not too hard, just a gentle, fluttering touch.

Moca’s face goes as red as the blood from her wounded hand.

“M-moca, I’m so sorry– I don’t even know what I was– it was just– I just thought–“ Tomoe stutters, her face just as red as Moca’s at this point.

“Ahaha... hahahaha!” Moca bursts out laughing, once again wiping tears from her eyes, but this time, tears of pure, undiluted joy. “Tomochin, you’re so adorable when you get all flustered like that~.”

“So you don’t mind that I– that I–“

Before Tomoe can open finish her response, she feels Moca wrap her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

Tomoe relaxes into the hug, letting Moca rest her head on her chest. A glow of warmth pierces her heart. “No problem.”

A while passes, Moca comfortably settled in Tomoe’s arms, her breathing beginning to slow. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me! You haven’t had anything to eat yet, right?”

“No...”

“Ah. I should probably get you something then, so your blood sugar doesn’t drop or anything. That was a nasty cut.”

Moca sighs, reluctantly letting Tomoe release her from the hug and stand up. “It’s so cold when you’re not here, Tomochin. Please come hug me again~.”

“God, Moca, you’re pale. I need to get you something to eat... I might have some buns from Yamabuki Bakery, if you want.”

Moca’s eyes light up, nearly jumping up from her seat. “Really?! What kind?”

“Um... some assorted kinds. Saaya came over and dropped off some leftovers the other day.”

“Mm, maybe I should sample your selection, then–“

“No, no, you need to stay here. You might faint if you try to stand up. I’ll bring you something, okay?”

Moca nods and curls her legs up to meet her chest. She stretches her fingers for a second, cringing at the sudden dull ache in her palm. She hates herself for getting hurt in the first place, but she’ll admit that she’s grateful for Tomoe taking care of her. It’s so terrifying for her to even think about what would’ve happened without Tomoe being there to help.

“Alright, I got you a melon bun and some apple juice,” Tomoe announces as she re-enters the room, bearing a small plate of food and a glass of juice.

“Yaaay~ Tomochin saves the day, once again.” Moca beams, taking a bite from the melon bun.

“I just thought about what they do when you get your blood drawn at hospitals and stuff, like how they give you cookies and grape juice? Obviously, it’s not exactly the same, but it should work the same way.”

“Ehehe, you’re doing great, Tomochin.” Moca smiles over her glass. “I really couldn’t ask for a better caretaker~”

“Aw, I don’t know about that,” Tomoe replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. “...Oh man, it’s really late. Do you need me to walk you home?”

“Nah, Moca-chan’s good on her own~,” Moca assures her, setting aside the empty dishes and starting to collect her schoolbag and guitar. She’ll probably just have Ran help her fix the broken string tomorrow.

“How does your hand feel?”

Moca opens and closes her fist a few times. “I think it’ll be A-OK, Doctor Tomochin.”

“That’s good. Text me when you get home, alright? You’ve terrified me enough for one day.”

“Roger that~!” Moca salutes jokingly. “I’d better get going.”

Before Moca turns to leave, she takes Tomoe’s hand and kisses her palm gently. “Now we’re even~.”

Moca leaves the Udagawa residence, closing the door quietly behind her.

When she gets home, she makes sure to write out a message to Tomoe, just to be safe.

_mocalatte [10:57 PM]: iiii’m home safely, mama tomochin can rest easy now (￣∇ ￣)_

_mocalatte [11:04 PM]: and... thank you for everything, tomoe. you’re really important to me and what you did for me today means a lot. i love being a member of afterglow and getting to be friends with all of you. i hope i never lose this feeling._

_mocalatte [11:07 PM]: well, you’ve reached the moca-chan “feelings” quotient for today. goodnight, i’ll see u tomorrow, tomochin <3_


End file.
